The Quidditch Referee
by TheNextFolchart
Summary: "Terminated?" says Rolanda Hooch, yellow eyes flashing as she strides into his office with a slip of parchment in her hand. "Terminated, Severus?"


**The Quidditch Referee**

* * *

 _September_

A knock on his door makes Severus look up from his paperwork. "One moment," he says, but the door is already swinging open.

"Terminated?" says Rolanda Hooch, yellow eyes flashing as she strides into his office with a slip of parchment in her hand. " _Terminated_ , Severus?"

Severus sets down his quill and folds his hands on Dumbledore's desk—even now, months into Severus' term as headmaster, he still cannot help but think of the office (and everything in it) as Dumbledore's. "Do come in, Madam Hooch."

Rolanda bristles. "How can you just _terminate_ me without any warning?"

"We've terminated your _position_. It's nothing personal."

"How do you expect to play Quidditch without the ruddy referee?"

Severus glances down at his paperwork. "We don't. We're eliminating Quidditch, too. Effective immediately."

Rolanda sets her mouth in a hard line. "Why are you doing this?"

Severus traces a line around his mouth with a pale finger. "It's not up to me."

"You're the Headmaster!"

He flinches at that word, and he knows she sees it. She's got eyes like a hawk, that Madam Hooch, and she doesn't miss anything—it's what made her such a good Seeker once upon a time, and it's what makes her such a good referee. "It isn't up to me," he says again, and Rolanda clenches her jaw. "If you won't go quietly, I'll be forced to take drastic measures."

Rolanda raises one grey eyebrow and forces a laugh. "Go quietly? I've been working here since before you were born—since before your parents were born. If you think I'm going to let you just throw me out without a fight—"

"Please, Madam Hooch." Severus is looking at his paperwork again. "If you don't mind, I'm very busy. I'm sure you can see yourself out."

He keeps his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's desk, and he only knows she's gone when the door closes with a hard _snap._

* * *

 _October_

 _INDEPENDENT STUDY REQUEST FORM_

 _Student: Ginny Weasley_

 _Professor: Rolanda Hooch_

 _Proposed Course Title: Private Flying Lessons_

 _Reason: Trying out for professional Quidditch team in June; requesting private coaching._

 _Headmaster Signature of Approval:_

Severus looks at the form for a long moment. "Private flying lessons?"

Ginny nods once. "I've been invited to try out for the Holyhead Harpies."

He traces his mouth with a pale finger. "I wasn't aware that the Harpies were still operating."

Ginny's eyes narrow slightly. "Just because you've cancelled Quidditch at Hogwarts, _Headmaster_ , doesn't mean that the rest of the world has also stopped playing."

Severus meets her eyes for the first time, because she's used _that word_ , and the steel in her eyes makes him think she knows just how much it makes him ache.

"I just want to play," she says.

Severus slides the form across Dumbledore's desk. "Unfortunately, I find myself unable to help you."

"Wait, no." Ginny is on the edge of her chair. "Please. Madam Hooch has already agreed to it."

"Madam Hooch is no longer an employee of Hogwarts. Her position was terminated at the beginning of the year."

"I know. But she owled to say she'll come back to the castle three times per week to train me, and—"

"There will be no private flying lessons on Hogwarts grounds."

She says nothing.

"Miss Weasley."

She looks up.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Headmaster." She plucks the form from his desk and crumples it in her fist. "No private lessons on Hogwarts grounds."

He flinches. She doesn't see.

* * *

 _November_

He watches from Dumbledore's window as Rolanda Hooch and Ginny Weasley stand just outside the limits of the Hogwarts grounds, each with a broomstick in hand.

"She's a stubborn broad, that Hooch, isn't she," says the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black from Severus' right. "Not one to disappear quietly into the night."

Severus clenches his jaw and says nothing.

Down below, Ginny has mounted her broom, and Rolanda is tightening the straps of her dragon-hide gloves.

He swears she looks directly up into Dumbledore's office as she kicks off.

* * *

 _December_

She sends him a Christmas present.

Rolanda Hooch. Sends _him._ A Christmas present.

It's a mug, he finds when he unwraps it. A mug shaped like a Snitch, with great silver wings that flap frantically in order to keep the thing afloat and upright. It's ugly, and obnoxious, and he hates the way it looks on Dumbledore's desk.

It comes with a note: _Happy Christmas, Headmaster._

Severus tries to throw it away, but those bloody wings keep bringing it back.

* * *

 _January_

Severus hears through the grapevine that Rolanda Hooch is giving flying lessons to students out in Hogsmeade—and not ordinary flying lessons, either, but lessons in fighting tactics, in aerial attack patterns. Lessons designed for war.

He issues a notice banning Hogsmeade visits.

It doesn't seem to matter.

* * *

 _February_

A Valentine.

A bloody _Valentine._

It arrives at breakfast, and it sings and spews glitter and tries to rhyme _Headmaster_ with _disaster_ , and he can't prove it's from Rolanda but somehow he just _knows_.

For the first time since September, he actually considers offering her a job just so she'll get out of his hair.

* * *

 _March_

March is uneventful.

(It makes him nervous.)

* * *

 _April_

Ten enchanted Bludgers crash through Dumbledore's window at midnight on April 1st.

Severus repairs the broken window with a flick of his wand and transfigures the balls into feathers, but not before one of them smashes Dumbledore's cabinet of enchanted silver items, shattering a heavy hourglass. People track the sand across his floor for weeks, and no matter how he tries, Severus cannot seem to Vanish it.

There is a war going on outside between Potter and Voldemort, and he knows he's supposed to care, but he can't help but feel like the battle that matters more is the one between himself and the Quidditch referee.

* * *

 _May_

"You wanted to see me?" says Rolanda Hooch as she marches through Dumbledore's door.

Severus Snape stands. There are a dozen tiny enchanted broomsticks in his hand, all squirming and trying to bite him with their tiny enchanted teeth. "I was wondering whether you'd consider coming back to Hogwarts."

Rolanda smirks. "Knew I'd wear you down."

* * *

 _Quidditch League Semi-Finals_

 _Holyhead Harpies, Seeker_

 _Prompt: Madam Hooch in the 1997-98 school year_

 _Word Count: 1,027_


End file.
